


is this adoption?

by alfredolover119



Series: shipmas 2019 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Language, Fluff, Getting Together, Hermione Granger is So Done, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21753379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfredolover119/pseuds/alfredolover119
Summary: Why was it always Draco? Why couldn't he just return to Hogwarts for his "eighth year" with no mishaps? He just wanted a peaceful year. No interactions with the so-called Golden Trio. McGonagall made sure that these simple wishes, particularly the last one, would not happen. She just had to go and make the eighth years share a common room.--OR--Draco is happy, thank you very much, and he just wants to have a good Christmas. (Fuck you, Granger.)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: shipmas 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558579
Comments: 4
Kudos: 298





	is this adoption?

**Author's Note:**

> Day 5 of the 12 days of shipmas, a series of prompts by littlerose13. 
> 
> Today's prompt was, "Your pygmy puff has shed all over my Christmas jumper!"
> 
> Enjoy!

Why was it always Draco? Why couldn't he just return to Hogwarts for his "eighth year" with no mishaps? He just wanted a peaceful year. No interactions with the so-called _Golden Trio_. McGonagall made sure that these simple wishes, particularly the last one, would not happen. She just _had_ to go and make the eighth years share a common room. 

On top of that, the Gryffindor and Slytherin boys had to share a dormitory. "Inter-house cooperation," his ass. It would be a miracle if they all made it through the year alive. Draco had a set list of protection charms he put on his bed every night. Quite a hassle, in his opinion, but he supposed it was better than critical injury or death.

Thankfully, he was in between Blaise and Theodore. Theo, the poor bastard, was stuck next to _Longbottom_. Draco was grateful he was not forced to sleep next to any of the Gryffindors. He would probably live off of pepper-up potions if that were the case; he would never get a wink of sleep. Not that it mattered much, since Weasley snored at the volume of a stampede of centaurs.

No, one of the more _interesting_ things about sharing a room with all the eighth year Gryffindor boys was that Draco was closer than ever to Harry Potter. He could observe when the Boy Who Lived ( _Twice_ , as they called him now) left in the middle of the night, and when he didn't return until the next morning. One would assume he had a girlfriend, perhaps a certain Weaslette, but her snogging Lovegood all about the castle seemed to throw that theory out the window. Draco assumed Potter's nighttime wanderings were a result of the war. Draco himself had experienced a time when he feared sleep because of the nightmares he knew would come. 

He was, of course, over this now. It had been six months, after all. He could empathize with those who still had nightmares, though, because not all could be as skilled as him at overcoming inner turmoil.

Draco assumed Potter would be the same, but the wanderings pointed towards the fact that Potter was still deeply scarred by the war. Draco could not and would not ever admit it, but the thought of the Savior still being torn up over a war that he won was very disheartening. Nobody got a happy ending out of all of this. Everyone was either imprisoned or too scarred to enjoy the freedom they had now that the Dark Lord was dead. 

Everyone but Draco, of course. Draco had accepted his punishment with his head held high. He knew, internally, that he really had no choice in the whole "becoming a Death Eater" thing. Really, any sane person would have chosen that over, uh, _dying_. 

Regardless of whatever had happened since the war, it was now the end of November and nothing could crush Draco's Christmas spirit. _Somebody_ had to have Christmas spirit, and since everybody else was either stuck in a depressing, mopey state all the time, studying, or sitting around the common room snogging, the task was left to Draco.

The "sitting around the common room snogging" bit was Draco's least favorite activity the eighth years had decided to participate in. _Everyone_ was doing it. Longbottom and Abbott, Pansy and Blaise, even, eugh, Granger and Weasley. It did not evade Draco's superior observation skills that Potter was becoming a bit of a third wheel to Granger and the Weasel. They quite enjoyed snogging in the common room. Potter simply sat near them looking uncomfortable and pretending to read. It was almost as if they were his only friends. Honestly, how could someone save the whole world on countless occasions and not have more than two friends? It was honestly a bit pitiful.

Draco only had three friends, but he was also a former Death Eater. Not much could be expected of him, so it was a miracle he had three friends. Of course, his three friends were also associated with _the bad side_ and were shunned by the rest of the school. Draco counted it as a win, though.

Anyway, Draco was just "enjoying" himself in the common room. You could call it enjoyment if you enjoyed sitting by yourself while everyone else had fun with their friends and significant others. Draco tried to look at the bright side, so he could say he was enjoying himself. 

He was wearing his favorite Christmas jumper. He had just bought it a week prior. It was red with white zig-zags. Christmas was the one time of year you could catch Draco wearing red. It complemented his undertones well and made him look all rosy-cheeked. It really was a great tragedy that it was the primary color of such an awful house.

There he was, in a lovely Christmas jumper, enjoying sitting by himself. He would have been content to have stayed like that forever. 

He must have drifted off for a moment, because when he woke up the common room was in absolute chaos. People were screaming and standing on top of furniture. Draco did not move, observing the situation. Granger was running around the room chasing something small. A pet, perhaps?

Draco found out what it was much sooner than he would have liked. Granger came running towards him and he had only a moment to watch the tiny, Slytherin green pygmy puff racing towards him. It climbed up his leg, into his lap. Draco, alarmed, did not move an inch. Granger breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can you hand him to me?"

Draco looked down at the _him_ in question. His eyes were not as beady as the eyes of other pygmy puffs. It did seem to be more than a bit afraid, though. Draco petted it slowly, smoothing its erratic fur, only for it to pop back up as soon as his hand moved away. In all honesty, it was adorable. Maybe the cutest 'puff he had ever seen, and he had seen many.

Draco frowned and looked back up, ignoring Granger's question. "Granger, what have you done to this poor pygmy puff? He is scared for his life, and I can't seem to say I blame him, after seeing you chase him _mercilessly_ around the room. I really wouldn't expect you, of all people, to abuse your pets like this."

Granger opened her mouth and started to say something before closing it and taking a deep breath. "He's not my pet. Can you please hand him to me, though?"

The pygmy puff ran up onto Draco's shoulder, a single green hair falling off and landing on the hem of Draco's sweater. He stared at it as if he were in the middle of a standoff with his worst enemy. He, of course, saw it exactly like that.

Again, he evaded the question. He patted the pygmy puff's head and glared at the abuser. "Granger, your pygmy puff has shed all over my Christmas jumper!" 

"Draco, I really need to, uh, return it to the.. owner." She sounded desperate. Draco sighed. He supposed if he kept his fun up, _Weasley_ would get involved and he would end up hexed by the oaf. He pretended to contemplate one last time before reaching for the pygmy puff. However, it ran through the neck hole of his jumper and was now burrowed into the fabric between his jumper and shirt. 

"I think he likes me," Draco said with an easy grin. Granger looked as if she really needed a nap. She opened her mouth to say something before staring at Draco's collar. The pygmy puff was resting right at the neckline of his jumper.

To Draco's surprise, Granger just walked away, mouth agape. He looked down at his new friend. "You're safe now," he whispered to it, scratching its little green head. "I won't let the mean old lady chase you around ever again." He hugged the small creature closer, still, to him.

He couldn't just do that all day, though. He looked out the window and, judging by the amount of light outside, it was almost dinnertime. Draco sighed. He didn't usually eat in the Great Hall; he typically preferred to eat in some sort of peace. The Hall was just so _loud_ and _chaotic_. His friends often asked him to join, and he would respond every single time, "I will tomorrow." Tomorrow might as well have not come, because Draco never had any intention to eat in the hall.

With great remorse, he stood from his chair. The pygmy puff scampered up to stand on top of Draco's head. The little guy's fur clashed a bit with Draco's sweater. (Honestly, who decided red and green would be good Christmas colors?) The two _did_ make quite the festive pair, though.

The 'puff stayed on Draco's head until they made it into the kitchens. Nobody looked at them strangely on the way, but if they did, Draco simply must have missed it. 

Draco had a lovely meal of pot roast and potatoes. The pygmy puff would not eat anything. Because of this strange quirk of not eating, Draco christened him Joel, though he wasn't exactly sure what inspired him to name it that. He just, honestly, looked like a bit of a Joel.

After dinner, Draco and _Joel_ wandered the castle and grounds for a bit. Draco wanted to go outside, but the snow and Draco's tendency to lose body heat at disturbingly quick levels prevented it. 

Draco wanted to talk to Joel, but he thought that might be strange, considering he was a pygmy puff. Draco just felt like he would listen. For once, however, Draco felt like he had nothing to talk about. His life was as perfect as it could be, all things considered. He had two, sometimes three, friends. He was doing well in his classes. He loved the girl he was betrothed to.

No, the last part seemed a bit off. Draco stopped walking to consider how it was off. Joel sort of floated off of his shoulder, coming to sit on the ground in front of him. Some would find it a bit eerie, being stared at by a pygmy puff named Joel. Draco found it comforting, and maybe a little confusing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, fully expecting an answer. Joel just stared at him and cocked his head a bit.

"Oh, _fine_. I stopped because I realized I'm not in love with the girl I am supposed to marry in a couple of years."

Joel cocked his head back the other way, waiting for more details.

"Yes, I realize that I _am_ an openly gay man. That doesn't mean I like to think about _how_ I am an openly gay man and therefore cannot physically love a woman. It really came as quite a shocker to me, just now, honestly."

Joel jumped a little, impatiently asking for more details. A gossip; Draco should have known.

"How did I realize I was gay, you seem to be asking. Well, that one isn't _that_ difficult to answer. My friends have been teasing me since third year about how 'obsessive'," he paused to make finger quotes, "I am over Potter. At first, I brushed it off. Who _didn't_ obsess over their arch-rival? I had to do something in my free time. However, in fourth year I had some marvelous experiences with the Durmstrang boys.. What a time to be alive…" He drifted off, deep in memories.

Joel made a squeaking sound, trying to retain Draco's attention. 

"Oh, yes! I forgot, for a moment, what we were talking about… Nonetheless! By fifth year I'd come to accept that I was a raging homosexual, and in sixth I _might_ have accepted that the Chosen One had an arse that could tame a dragon. Just a childhood crush, of course, though. We haven't spoken a bit since the end of the war. I don't think he even realized I came back to Hogwarts this year. Utter rubbish, if you ask me. Since when do Malfoys have to blend into the crowd so much that people don't even realize they're there?" Draco sighed. Joel climbed back up Draco, nearly falling when he reached his kneecap. He came to rest back on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck a little bit. 

Let it be known that Malfoys are _not_ ticklish. They just have _very sensitive nerves_.

Which is why, when Joel's fur brushed up against Draco's neck, he nearly fell over. He scooped Joel off of his shoulder and held him far away from his body.

"I thought we were mates, Joel. You didn't have to do that." He feigned a frown. He was apparently very bad at feigning frowns, because Joel squeaked very loudly, almost like… a human laugh?

Draco shook his head. Preposterous. People couldn't _be_ pygmy puffs. 

They headed back to the common room soon after that. Draco considered returning the pygmy puff to Granger. Actually, he didn't. He had grown quite fond of him today. Joel was good company. He didn't frequently mock Draco. He listened without interrupting most of the time. He even squeaked whenever Draco did something funny. Draco might have to tell Blaise to bugger off, because Draco had just found a candidate for _Draco's new best friend_. He, of course, had not even considered looking for a new best friend, until he had already found the perfect one. He really was a genius.

He went to bed that night feeling very happy. Joel, the clingy fucker, stayed right on top of Draco while he got ready for bed and all. He did have the decency to turn around while Draco changed clothes, though. At least he wasn't a perverted pygmy puff.

Draco climbed into bed. Joel, of course, was right with him. Joel had a blank look on his face while Draco did the protection spells around his bed. "Blank" was not a look that fit Joel.

They curled up in bed together, and Draco quite enjoyed the feeling of holding a warm being. The pygmy puff let out a quiet yawn before drifting off to sleep. Draco was not far behind him, chasing Joel into the land of dreams.

To say Draco was confused when he woke up would be an understatement. He would have been less confused if he had woken up cuddling Voldemort. How did something like that even happen? He had been so careful with his charms, yet there was still a Harry Potter in his bed. 

Correction, a Harry Potter in his bed _spooning_ him. Draco thought he would catch on fire. Of course he was the little spoon. He supposed Pansy had just won a bet.

He shifted a little in the tight grasp that was holding him. Potter's messy hair brushed up against his collarbone, making him shiver. He considered what might have happened.

Someone could have placed Potter in Draco's bed to make Draco look suspicious. Potter could have broken into his bed last night for some reason. Like retrieving his pet pygmy puff Draco had stolen! 

Draco looked around for the little guy. He was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps-

Potter's grip loosened a bit and his eyes cracked open. He did not move away from Draco.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he said gruffly, morning voice kicked into full gear. If not under these circumstances, Draco would have found it endearing.

Draco could have said something witty, but instead he said, "Why are you in my bed?" 

They were still cuddled up together, and Draco was not going to be the one to break it. To prove strength, not because he enjoyed it, obviously.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet." Harry stretched his arms before letting them rest back around Draco. "I'll give you a hint. I went to sleep with you last night."

It clicked. Harry Potter _was_ Joel. Joel the pygmy puff. By Merlin, Draco didn't know how. "Is it your animagus form?" he guessed.

"Spot on, loverboy." He looked far too relaxed. Draco didn't like it.

"What's up with the nicknames? Aren't you at least going to proposition me before claiming my bed as your own?" It was weak. Draco was vaguely ashamed of it. It almost sounded like, ugh, _flirting_. Not that he would do that, of course. Not on purpose. 

"You haven't hexed me yet, so I suppose you like this," he made a vague motion with one of his hands, "as much as I do."

Draco did not know how to respond to that. If he denied it, things would be awkward and Harry might leave… Draco knew one thing for certain, and it was that Harry could not leave. 

"If you like this so much, why haven't you kissed me yet?"

"I'm not _that_ easy. Cut me some slack. I did climb into your bed. Even for a Gryffindor, that's pretty brave."

Draco was slightly infuriated. He opened his mouth to kindly tell Potter to shut his, but he was cut off. Soft lips touched his own, and he froze. It took a second, but he kissed back. It was quite lovely. It was a shame it would have to end soon.

Or so he thought. Potter manhandled them into a different position. Draco was now completely underneath Potter and the kiss deepened. Tongues clashed and Draco let out a weak moan. Potter pulled back.

Draco saw the perfect opportunity to tell him that this simply would _not_ work.

"Potter-"

"I don't kiss people who call me by my last name like that. My name is Harry."

"Ok, _Harry_ , how am I supposed to respond to that? Ask you to be my bloody _boyfriend_? Do you want me to take you to Hogsmeade? This really-"

"Yup."

Draco was a bit flabbergasted. "Wh- What do you mean?"

"Ask me to be your boyfriend. Take me to Hogsmeade. We'll make a great couple." Harry lied back down beside him, apparently tired of holding himself up above Draco.

"And how do _you_ know that?" Draco tried his last card. He would soon be asking Harry to be his boyfriend if he couldn't de-escalate the situation. He couldn't really remember why that was a bad idea, but he knew it was.

"A man never reveals his most useful secrets." Draco sighed. This man was hopeless. 

"Fine, then. If you want me so badly, you can be my boyfriend."

"You didn't say please."

"How the bloody fuck could I use the word _please_ in that sentence?"

"I don't know. Maybe like-" Harry cleared his throat, raising his voice in what Draco assumed was his impersonation of Draco. "If you want me so badly, you can be my boyfriend, _please."_

Draco smirked. "If you insist."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Draco reached over to grab the front of his shirt, but by the time his hand was there, Harry Potter was a small, _Slytherin_ green pygmy puff. Draco would have to bring that up later.

"Oh, you are an absolute wanker," he said to the small creature. He took off, Draco on his heels.

He probably caught him, eventually. To Draco, it honestly didn't matter. He'd already caught him in one way, two just seemed overkill.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](https://whatsshakingbanana.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you enjoyed, let me know by dropping some kudos and a comment!


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